


Glimpsing the Sun While Trapped by the Rime

by CKBookish



Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [25]
Category: Batman - Fandom, Batman and Robin (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Batdad, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Dick has a crush and it is his doom, Fever, Gen, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Passing Out, Protective Bruce Wayne, Sick Fic, Teens do dumb things for love, Worried Bruce Wayne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:41:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28353354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CKBookish/pseuds/CKBookish
Summary: He almost called Bruce between his fourth and fifth class.  He pulled his phone out, leaning against his locker, and half dialed his number when a warm hand fell on his shoulder.“Hey.”Dick spun around and blinked back black spots as his body protested the sudden movement.  A blaze of red hair filled his vision and Dick felt a small fire build in his chest.  His face split into a wide smile.After a run in with Mr. Freeze Dick finds himself feeling odd at school, but he can't go home,  not when Barbara's asked him to drive her to Betty's party after school.
Relationships: Barbara Gordon & Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590904
Comments: 45
Kudos: 283





	Glimpsing the Sun While Trapped by the Rime

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I'm really shocked this is the last one. I finished the bingo. Black out. Done. To those of you who were here from the start, thank you so much. This has been a wild year and you made me want to continue to write with your wonderful comments. 
> 
> Bb, I hope this lives up to your expectations. This is very very loosely based on some of the dumb life choices of one CKBookish. And Bb asked for me to make it into a fic. 
> 
> so with out further adieu Batman Bingo 2020: Mr. Freeze.

If you were the sun, I would would allow myself to burn.

But I am mere frost, left on the surface of land, cold and desolate,

and the sun is both my salvation and my doom.

* * *

Dick woke with a pounding headache and feeling rather chilled. He groaned and pulled his blanket tighter around him. He wondered if Dr. Fries had changed his formula for the freeze gun. Normally the cleaning solvent that Alfred made him wash with after being exposed to the mad scientist’s ice, made him feel better by the time he woke the next morning. Dick pushed his blanket back and felt a shiver run down his spine. He almost crawled back into bed until he looked at his phone. 

“Hey my dad wants to know if you can give me a ride to the bowling alley after school?”

Dick blinked and reread the text message from Barbara.  _ Bowling _ ? Then it hit him. Betty Davis was having her birthday party today after school. He glanced over at his desk and saw Alfred had in fact wrapped the present they had picked out several weeks ago. It was in pale pink paper. Dick grimaced at the choice, but then he would have made a mess if he had wrapped it himself. 

Dick closed his eyes and resigned himself to the long day ahead of him. He turned the shower to the hottest setting, stole Bruce’s coffee and put on his thickest under shirt,  _ and  _ was still cold. Bruce didn’t seem as bothered by the after effects of whatever it was that they’d been hit with last night, but he had a much larger body mass than Dick. Not for the first time Dick hated how small he was for his age. 

“So what time will you be home tonight?” Bruce asked, squeezing his shoulder as he passed to leave the kitchen. 

“Err..” Dick tilted his head. “I should be back by 7:30. I’m taking Babs home after I think.”

Bruce nodded and waved slightly. “Have fun.” 

Dick turned back to his eggs and felt his stomach turn. Deciding that he wasn’t as hungry as he’d thought he had been just moments ago, he pushed his plate back, and left it on the counter. 

Dick spent the morning in his classes shaking and keeping his arms pinned tightly against his chest. The school uniforms did little to provide him any warmth. Every now and then his stomach would give a particularly painful lurch. He almost called Bruce between his fourth and fifth class. He pulled his phone out, leaning against his locker, and half dialed his number when a warm hand fell on his shoulder. 

“Hey.”

Dick spun around and blinked back black spots as his body protested the sudden movement. A blaze of red hair filled his vision and Dick felt a small fire build in his chest. His face split into a wide smile. 

“Barbara!” 

“Hey. Where do you want to meet after seventh?” She leaned against his neighbor’s locker.

He was almost as tall as her now, he realized. “Err. Well, I’m parked in A lot. So we could meet there, if you want.”

She nodded and gave his hand a quick squeeze. She was gone just as suddenly as she’d appeared. Dick slipped his phone back into his pocket and fought the urge to skip to class. 

Photography was one of the few classes Dick was actually enjoying. He had picked it because he thought it would be useful for surveillance work, but found the class was not only practical but interesting. He learned about how film was first made and about pinhole cameras. He doubted he would ever  _ use  _ anything outside of his nightlife, but it was neat to see all the things people came up with. However, Dick found quickly he was terrible at taking what he would call pretty pictures. He had spent years working with Bruce taking photographs for evidence and investigations. Composition was interesting but completely impractical for what he needed the skill for. 

Dick sat in the lightroom with his film bag trying to maneuver the pieces inside so that he could put the film into the shaker. His fingers fumbled and the task seemed impossible. After several minutes of his struggling, his tablemate gestured for him to hand him the bag. 

“Thanks,” Dick mumbled as he slid it across the table to him. 

“No problem will you change my photos in the dark room to the last solution for me while I do this. The timer--” He was cut off as the digital clock went off on the table beside him. Dick smiled and stood, turning the alarm off as he did. 

He stumbled slightly as he made his way to the revolving door that led to the dark room. He shivered as the door rotated to admit him. The room felt colder than the adjoining one had been. Dick shivered as he made his way to the chemical baths. He spotted Justin’s picture and grabbed a pair of tongs to fish it out with. 

Dick blinked. The room seemed darker than normal. His stomach gave a particularly painful lurch and Dick nearly dropped the photograph back into the color setter. He placed it in the tray filled with solution next to it, and turned to leave. 

The room was growing darker and darker. Dick’s eyes went wide and he glanced at the red bulbs that bathed the room in the almost sinister light. The bulb looked fine. His stomach squeezed again and Dick groaned in the empty room. He felt suddenly like he was about to throw up. His legs wobbled and his vision blurred. 

Realizing he was about to fall, Dick let his legs bend and landed on his backend, hard. Dick bent forward and put his head between his knees and sucked in air through his mouth. 

He was shaking slightly on the cold tile floor. After a few moments of just focusing on breathing, he felt the pain in his stomach pass, and after a while, his head didn’t feel like it was about to depart from his neck. 

Dick pulled himself to his feet slowly keeping his eyes screwed shut as waves of nausea overtook him again. Dick made his way to the door slowly. He needed to get the teacher, he thought absently. The door to the light room spun open, and Dick suddenly doubted his ability to make it all the way to the other side of the room. His own desk was much closer. Dick sank into his seat, grateful he hadn’t passed out or emptied what little breakfast he had eaten this morning onto the floor. 

“Dick?” Justin asked him worriedly as he put his head down on the table.

Dick didn’t answer, he was once again fighting back black spots that were encroaching on his vision. 

Dick didn’t notice Justin leave, but soon the thick smell of perfume hung over him. 

“Mr. Grayson?” Miss Dwyer asked, placing a light hand on his back. 

“I feel like passing out.” Dick mumbled. He was far too familiar with the feeling. He hated it. Dick’s head was working at what felt like a snail's pace, he must have some ice still on him. He  _ must  _ have missed a piece. That was the only explanation he could think of, to explain feeling like this. 

“Do you want to go to the nurse?” She asked slowly.

Dick nodded and pushed back his chair again. “I’m… Yeah.” 

He could check for the ice in the nurse's office and maybe lay down for a bit. He would feel better quickly after getting the ice off of him. 

He made it halfway down the hallway before he thought it odd she had sent him alone. Dick made it just inside the door of the office, before the feeling of pain in his stomach returned. The nurse was sitting with her back to him. 

“What can I help--” 

“I think I’m going to pass out.” Dick interrupted. 

It was as if he had said an incantation. She was out of her chair and around the desk faster then he could blink. 

Dick was pushed onto a cot gently. He chuckled as a million questions were rattled off to him. 

“Did you fall recently? Did you hit your head? Did you have any food or water today?”

Dick bit his lip. “I didn’t really eat anything today.” 

She was gone and back before he could really think. She handed him a juice box and a package of crackers with peanut butter. Dick thanked her and asked if he could lay down for a bit. 

She nodded and pulled a curtain around the cot for him. Dick quickly sat back up and ran his hands along his body looking for the ice. He pulled his socks off and checked between his toes, he untucked his shirt and bent his arms back at odd angles to check between his shoulder blades. It was as he ran his hands through his hair he felt it. Just behind his left ear. Dick pulled at the ice harshly, taking some hair with it. He dropped it into the trashcan next to him and leaned back suddenly drained. 

He lay there just breathing with his eyes closed until the bell rang. Slowly he pulled himself back into a sitting possession, and quickly tucked his crackers and juice into his blazer. He still didn’t feel up to eating, but he was feeling much better than he’d been before. 

Dick pushed back the curtains and found himself face to face with Justin. He was holding Dick’s back pack and looking rather worried. 

“Hey, how are you doing?”

Dick tried to smile, “A lot better, I guess my blood sugar was down or something.”

The nurse was eyeing him wearily. “Would you like me to call your guardian and have them come get you?” 

Dick shook his head. There was nothing Bruce could do now that the ice was gone, and he had an important meeting. Alfred had been talking about going to a store in a neighboring town, so he wouldn’t even be home to take the call or even close enough to get him before school was out. 

“No, I feel a lot better. I’ll be okay.”

The rest of the day felt both like a blur and seemed to drag all at once. No matter what Dick did he just never felt warm. He sat next to heat vents and in patches of sunlight as if he were a cat. He made it through lunch just nibbling on the food Alfred had packed him. It tasted bland and made his stomach lurch. Dick sighed in relief when the bell rang signaling that he was finally free to go home. He made it halfway to his car, before a mane of fire danced in front of him, causing him to rock back on his heels to avoid colliding with Barbara. 

“Hey!” Dick said startled. 

“You ready?” Barbara said in lieu of greeting. 

Dick stood staring at her for a full minute before he remembered. He was meant to go to a birthday party. He groaned internally at the poor timing of Dr. Fries. 

Barbara waved her hand in front of his face and he arranged it into a smile. “Yeah. Lets go.” 

Dick drove to the bowling alley going five miles an hour under the speed limit the whole way. Barbara shot him worried glances every few minutes, but said nothing. It wasn’t until he pulled into the parking lot that she asked him if he was alright. 

Dick flinched as her hand fell on his arm. She was like fire. The warmth from her touch ran up his arm straight to his face. His heart hammered against his ribs and he felt his stomach do back flips. Dick’s face split into a wide grin. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You sure?” her eyebrows were pinched together. She looked cute when she was worried, Dick decided. Almost as cute as she did when she was reading. 

“Yeah. I’ve just been feeling tired. I didn’t sleep well.” The lie felt strange in his mouth, like he had acid on his tongue. 

Dick sat listening to the buzz of people all around him, as pins fell and the crash of bowling balls rang out like thunder. He felt drained, and the birthday cake seemed far from appetizing . He wondered if he should head straight for the Batcave when he got home. Perhaps Dr. Fries had created a new ice that was more effective. Dick could only guess what the purpose of a higher strength ice would do. 

Dick felt as if he had been dipped into ice water and left bare in the winter air, but then Barbara would say something funny and it was like being warmed by a fire. 

Dick bowled terribly and if it weren’t for Barbara roaring with laughter as she put ball after ball in the gutter, Dick would have been embarrassed at his performance. He half wondered if she were doing it on purpose. 

By the time the party drew to a close Dick was feeling dreadful. The now entirely fake plastered on grin he wore was slipping and Babara was still talking to Betty. Dick hated to pull her away. She was smiling and Dick thought he’d never seen anything better. He sat slumped slightly next to a rack of bowling balls. He glanced at his phone. It was nearing seven. He would be late. 

Dick pulled his contacts up on the screen and hit Alfred’s name. It was really the manor’s landline, but Alfred forwarded the number to his phone when he wasn’t home. So the answer would be the same in the absence of the butler. 

“Wayne Manor.” He answered neatly. 

“Hey, Alf. I’m running a bit late. We haven't left yet.” Dick picked at the hem of his blazer. 

“I see. I will put your supper in the warmer.” 

“Sorry, Alfred.” Dick said slightly abashed at the gentle reprimand. 

“It is not I who will be dining alone, sir.” Alfred sounded strange. Dick wondered if he’d actually upset the normally unflappable butler. 

“I am sorry.” Dick muttered. 

“I--” Alfred halted mid-breath. “Are you well, sir?”

“Yeah I’m--”

“Dick, you ready?” Barbara was half skipping back across the alley towards him. 

Dick smiled. “Yeah. Yeah.” He called, pulling his phone away from his mouth slightly. “Alf, I’m going to leave now. I should be home in an hour.”

“I will see you then.” Alfred replied just as Dick ended the call.

The entire drive to Barbara’s Dick spent listening to her as she explained the current drama between Betty and one of the boy’s on the basketball team. 

“And then he didn’t call, so  _ she  _ didn’t wear his jersey on game day. Which of course didn’t look good. But he came today, so there was at least that-- Dick, that was the turn.”

Dick cursed and went around the block. “Sorry.” 

Barbara shrugged. “More time to hang out.”

Dick felt his cheeks flush slightly. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “That's-- I mean, that’s always nice.”

Dick waited until she was past the doorman to pull out on the road. Now that he didn’t have Barbara’s consistent chatter in his ear, he felt horrible. He half considered pulling over and calling Bruce to come get him. He just wanted to sleep, to close his eyes and let the weariness take him. But if he called Bruce then it would take him even longer to get home. Dick made the turn onto Robinson Bridge. He just had a thirty minutes drive and he would be home. Maybe if he was lucky Bruce would sit with him while he ate. 

Dick felt his stomach clench painfully as he made the last turn before the driveway. He blinked back floating black spots and inhaled deeply through his nose. Just a few minutes. He would be home. Maybe he would skip dinner. He suddenly didn’t think that slice of cake had been a good idea. 

Dick parked rather poorly in the garage and slowly dragged his feet into the hall. The manor was warm and now Dick realized he was more than freezing. It was as if all his bones had been replaced by ice. Dick dropped his backpack next to the stairs and fumbled his way through the house, his ears searching for any sound of Alfred or Bruce. He just turned into the dinning room when his stomach gave another horrible squeeze. He felt like he was losing blood. He was cold and weak. He wondered if blood was turning to actually ice inside his body. Bruce looked up from his seat where he was reading something on a tablet. Dick made it exactly two steps before his vision went white and then suddenly black. 

He thought he heard Bruce calling him, but he was far too gone to answer. 

* * *

Dick woke feeling as if he had been bludgeoned by a bat, a feeling Dick was all too familiar with. His body ached in places he hadn’t thought possible. Even his nail beds hurt. Dick slowly forced his eyes open and was greeted by the sight of Bruce’s ceiling. He could just see the faint line the glow in the dark stars he’d put there when he was nine. They had long been removed but the outline was still visible where they had once been. Dick groaned, and moved to sit up but immediately stopped, as his head reeled and screamed at him. Instead he turned his head slightly and found Bruce laying next to him. 

He was laying on his side, as if he had fallen asleep watching him. He probably had, Dick reasoned. Bruce had dark circles under his eyes that showed his guardian had gotten little to no sleep in whatever amount of time Dick had been out. Dick moved to nudge him, and found his wrist encased in Bruce’s right hand. Dick bit his lip. Bruce had been checking his pulse when he fell asleep. Dick wondered just how he’d been injured. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here, or why he was in so much pain. 

Bruce started as Dick moved and his eyes flew open. They were slightly bloodshot. Dick felt impossibly worse than he had just a moment ago. Bruce had been crying. Dick had never seen his eyes look like that from anything else. 

“Dick.” Bruce breathed in relief. “You gave me and Alfred a big scare, chum.”

“I-- I don’t remember.” Dick admitted slowly. 

“You had a really high fever.” Bruce sat up and moved out of bed as he spoke. Dick frowned at the sudden lack of warmth next to him. “You came home and passed out.”

Dick frowned following Bruce as he moved around the room with his eyes. He could remember going to Betty’s party, but he didn’t remember coming home. “I-- I’m sorry.”

Bruce paused pouring a glass of water the pitcher half raised. “Dick, you got sick. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I-- I had ice on me.” Dick said slowly as if feeling out each word. 

Bruce turned, setting the water down. “What?”

“I felt bad at school. I went to the nurse.” Dick closed his eyes; the light was so bright.

“Dick?”

“My head.” Dick pressed his lips together.

“You hit it pretty hard.” Bruce said softly. “You hit the table when you fell. I-- I wasn’t fast enough.”

Dick forced his eyes open, even though it hurt. “You know I don’t need you to be a net, B.”

“Dick…” Bruce turned back to the pitcher of water, as if he couldn't bear to look at him.

Dick wondered for a moment what he’d said wrong. 

“I-- Doesn’t mean I don’t want to try.” He said thickly as he poured the water. The room was filled with a heavy silence that Dick didn’t know how to break. 

After a while, Bruce cleared his throat and turned back to bring him the water. 

Dick smiled shakily at him. Bruce didn’t quite manage a real smile, but his lips twitched and that was enough. 

“You sure you removed all of the ice?” Bruce asked as he helped Dick into a seated position. 

“Yeah. I must have been exposed for too long and got sick?” Dick asked as Bruce plied him with medication. 

“It could be. You had a temperature of 106.2 when you got home.” Bruce’s voice shook slightly. “Alfred had to give you six stitches where you hit your head. I-- I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

Dick blinked and felt his heart stutter. “I’m sorry, B.” 

Bruce pated his hand and stood up. 

“I didn’t think it was that bad.” Dick said lamely to the room. 

“I know, chum.” Bruce shuffled slightly by the foot of the bed. “Are you hungry?”

Dick frowned. He didn’t really want food, but he could see Bruce was looking for an excuse to have a moment alone so he nodded. Bruce almost made it to the door before the tears fell. Dick only just caught the sight of them in the reflection of the old mirror mounted in the corner. Dick felt something in his chest break. 

Bruce wouldn’t be gone long, Dick knew, but in his absence he felt hollow. He glanced around and spotted his phone on the bed stand, plugged in. He snatched it up and found he had over seventy five notifications. Dick blanched and looked at the date. Two days. He-- two whole days. He glanced at the door Bruce had disappeared through. 

It cracked open and Dick felt his heart stutter, Bruce must be really distressed if he was back alrea--

Alfred’s head ducked into the room. “Master Richard,” he sighed. “It is such a relief to see you awake.” 

The butler slipped into the room and made his way nimbly to the bed. 

“Hey, Alf.” Dick smiled shyly. 

“You gave us a turn. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve had a run in with Two-Face.” Dick regretted his words the second they were out of his mouth. Alfred paled slightly and swallowed hard. 

“I-- Well I’m sure you will be back on your feet in no time.” He began fussing with his blankets and Dick for once didn’t try to stop him. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You can’t help getting ill, sir.” 

“No. But I knew something was wrong… I didn’t think it was that bad though. I really didn’t.”

“I know, sir.” Alfred said gently. “We aren’t upset with you in the least. I-- I’ve not seen Master Bruce this scared in a long time. It was quite a shock to hear him shouting, when you fell.” Alfred offered him a watery smile. “If you wouldn’t mind, I would very much appreciate it if you allowed him to… hover.” 

“I-- how long do you think I’ll feel bad?” Dick asked nervously. He still felt cold and achy and his head was throbbing terribly. 

“Well, you still have a slight fever. It’s been steady at 100 for a day. But I’m hopeful you will be well again in a week.”

Dick groaned and slumped back against his pillows. “I hate Dr. Fries.” 

“I think we can  _ all  _ agree on that.” Alfred smiled. 

The door to the room opened and Bruce entered balancing a tray in one hand as he did. “Dick? Is tomato soup okay?”

Dick smiled and nodded. Bruce’s face looked better. He must have stopped to wash it. “Yeah.”

Dick felt warmer slightly, when Bruce sank down on the chair next to him, as he ate. 

“Whatcha working on?” Dick asked after a moment. Bruce was typing furiously on his tablet. 

“Err.. I was just answering emails, do you need me to get you--”

“No. I just-- I was just wondering if you could tell me about it.”

Bruce regarded him carefully. “How’s your head?” 

“It’s been better, but you talking won’t hurt it.” Dick smiled. 

Bruce nodded and glanced down. “Well we’re trying to purchase a new manufacturing plant in--”

Dick sat eating his soup slowly, huddled under several thick blankets, listening to Bruce speak. He felt warmer the longer he spoke. After he had eaten his fill, Bruce wordlessly plucked his bowl away and set it behind him, still regaling Dick with a long convoluted business deal. Dick felt his eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Bruce’s words seemed to float on waves that Dick couldn’t reach. 

“Bruce,” He mumbled as his eyes slipped shut for the fifth time. “I’m really glad you always try to catch me.”

If Bruce gave a reply Dick didn’t hear it, but he could have sworn a hand slid into his. 


End file.
